The Elf Journey In The Western Fantasy World-Chapter 48: The Fall of the False King

The group of nobles standing behind the fake king slowly came to their senses after being stunned by the shocking revelation.

One by one, they instinctively stepped away, trying to put distance between themselves and the fake king.

Some of the more timid ones even cried out in fear.

"Help! Where are the royal knights?! Where are the patrolling royal knights?! Why is no one coming?! Hurry up and arrest the fake king!"

The fake king was so enraged that he almost fainted on the spot.

He never expected that after putting so much effort into handling matters for these nobles—dividing benefits and managing power—not a single one would support him now that things had been exposed. And wasn’t it still unclear which one was the real king?

"Shut up!" the fake king roared at the group of nobles behind him.

In an instant, the place fell dead silent. Not even a sound.

The fake king panted heavily, his cold, vengeful gaze sweeping across every face behind him. Some looked terrified, as if they had seen a monster. Some guiltily turned away, not daring to meet his eyes. Others wore righteous expressions, as if filled with moral outrage, their faces practically declaring "nobility."

"Tch. Drop those fake expressions. Who knows what nobles are really like better than you?" the fake king sneered. "Over the past ten-plus years, I’ve learned everything about you."

With a chilling smile, he continued, "Don’t tell me you never noticed anything suspicious before. But weren’t you all turning a blind eye?"

"How laughable."

As soon as the words left his mouth, the nobles practically did a face-changing opera act on the spot. Their expressions turned uglier than the fake king’s.

Seeing this, the fake king let out a triumphant laugh.

"Haha, if I’m going down, don’t think any of you will have it easy."

Having finished speaking, he no longer spared any attention for the nobles behind him and instead shifted his gaze toward the real king.

The false king remained silent for a while, not speaking right away.

After all, he was the one who had usurped the nest. And now that the rightful owner had returned, how could the usurper still fare well? Of course not—he would be mercilessly exposed and driven out.

But he was unwilling.

Why, after he had schemed and worked so hard for so long, even giving up his soul and life—

Why should it all be for nothing?

The false king was full of resentment.

Illiya suddenly lost all interest—completely.

Only now did he realize that this whole game was built on boredom, making it impossible to muster even the slightest bit of excitement.

"Today was truly eye-opening. I thought you might be different from the others, but it turns out you’re no different at all from those who wanted to take my place. To put it even more harshly, you’re not even as decisive as they were. At least those people tried to kill me to eliminate future troubles, but you merely locked me up—and you were even tripped up by the curse of Areuseon Kingdom."

"You spared my life only so Areuseon Kingdom wouldn’t collapse, so you could continue sitting in the position of king. You gave up your original face and personality, meticulously imitating everything about me. But the moment you tried to sit firmly on the throne as ’Seoryun,’ you lost."

"Did you really think you could throw me in a dungeon without anyone noticing? That you could take over the role of king without a ripple? Don’t be ridiculous. If I hadn’t willingly allowed myself to be locked away, do you think you could’ve succeeded? If I hadn’t been secretly helping from behind the scenes, could you have held onto the throne for over a decade?"

"Have you never realized why, after all these years, those old, seasoned knights never competed for the position of your personal guard? It’s because they knew for sure that the ’Seoryun’ sitting on the throne was not the one they had followed for twenty years."

"And the fact that you didn’t even notice this—truly pathetic."

Illiya tore away the last bit of dignity the false king had painstakingly preserved, telling him outright: you were only fooling yourself. freewebnσvel.cѳm

The false king’s final defense shattered completely, and he collapsed onto the ground in utter despair.

He thought he had been contending with the real king as an equal. But the truth was harsh—the real king told him he was just a ridiculous clown, one who didn’t even deserve to be on stage.

"I am successful! I didn’t fail! I replaced everything about you—status, wealth, power! So I’m not a failure!" the false king argued.

The more he argued, the thicker the black mist around him grew. What had been a thin layer at first soon became dense enough to completely enshroud him. His original appearance vanished, and he transformed into a humanoid figure made entirely of black mist.

"I’m not a failure... I gave everything to the Demon King... I can’t possibly fail..."

The false king’s voice grew fainter and fainter, until finally it was completely swallowed up—no sound remained.

Illiya suddenly felt a sense of dread.

The aura of corruption erupted the moment the false king’s voice vanished. Before, it had only been faintly perceptible, but now the entire elf was surrounded by it.

With every breath, the stench of decay filled his lungs—so foul it caused a physical reaction of discomfort.

At the same time, a powerful sense of danger surged within him.

Almost instinctively, Illiya shouted, "We can’t let the false king fully offer himself to Corruption!"

Cloudveil’s heart sank with a thud as he stared into the thick black mist where not even a silhouette could be seen.

He hesitated and said, "...Illiya, don’t you think it’s a bit too late to be saying that now?"

Illiya also saw what was happening and suddenly felt his vision darken.

There were records in the Library of the Elven Forest. The Fallen were not born that way—they were once normal creatures.